#Fiddleford absolutely will NOT have that behaviour

[noodles-and-tea]

Imma drop kick Ford for treating Lil Stanley like that. Keep it away??? Excuse me sir let me just smack you! How dare you treat that little boy like that. As if Stan doesn’t have enough self esteem issues as it is! You better hug him NOW 😭

Meanwhile Adult!Stanley is like “I will protect him with every last breath I have!” And hugging him so tight 🥹😫

I just needed you to know that Ford does come around… eventually.

[rayyanishere1]

"Studying? Yeah, Totally."

A Short FiddleStan Oneshot

(Part of the Loser Ford AU, but isn't relevant to the lore whatsoever lmao)

One night, Ford announced that he'd be at the library for a couple of hours.

"Knock yourself out, Sixer."

Once he left, Stan and Fiddleford looked at each other.

"Wanna..?"

"You don't even have to ask."

Stan led Fiddleford to the couch with only one motive in mind.

Forcing him to watch trashy television! They spent good money on that TV, and by God, they were gonna use it.

"Ladies and Gents, welcome back to 'Your Guess Could Be Royally Wrong!' The show where you don't win prizes, but you don't get punished, either. I'm your host, Zain Squalus—"

Ah, yes, gameshows. The peak of entertainment.

"Is this really what you wanna watch?"

"It's either this, weird chick dramas, or the news."

Welp, can't argue with that.

Fiddleford tried many times to make a move; pretending to yawn to wrap his arm around Stan's shoulder, not very subtly inching his hand towards Stan's thigh. Hell, he tried to go in for a kiss at least 3 times!

Without fail, something would make Stan dodge his advances. Oh, he suddenly has to shift a little in the opposite direction to grab something, oh, something shocking happened and he needed his whole body to react to it.

Seems fate was planning on cockblocking Fiddleford today. Not cool, man. Not cool.

During a commercial break, Stan left to get some snacks. That gave Fiddleford some time to think.

It was obvious that subtlety was getting him absolutely nowhere. He just had to be a little more direct, right? Yeah, that's definitely it.

Stan returned with a bowl of chips and sat back down. Now was time for Fiddleford's master plan.

He used every tactic he knew all at once. Wrapping an arm around Stan's shoulder, leaning in closer. Maybe he should also try getting Stan's mind off of this weird gameshow he was so invested in...

"You know, Stanley, we're home alone."

"I would hope so, yeah."

"And we aren't doing anything."

"Yes, we are! We're watching Your Guess Could Be Royally Wrong, the totally original gameshow based in Oregon."

"I just thought that, with Stanford gone, we'd be doing something else."

"...I don't follow."

That's Stan Pines for you, folks. The dumbest genius on Earth.

"Stanley..."

Fiddleford didn't know if he wanted to laugh, cry, or scream. Instead, he decided that his plan of being direct was the right way to go.

"Stanley Pines."

"That's my name. Am I in trouble?"

"You're going to be if you don't kiss me right now."

"Haha, what?"

∆∆∆

The TV buzzed on in the background as they practically devoured each other's faces.

"Fidds, if you were this—hah—pent up, you could've just told me.."

"I tried to! For an entire hour!"

"Wait, really?"

"Lord, yes! I suppose something was keeping you from noticing."

"Uh huh.."

Deeming the couch to be too uncomfortable, Fiddleford took it upon himself to bring them somewhere more suitable for their.. Activity.

He picked Stan up like he weighed nothing and carried him to the bedroom.

Many kisses later, the two were shirtless and all over each other. It was like they were trying to fit multiple days worth of making out into one session. To be fair, though, it wasn't often that they had alone time like this.

Stan pulled away for a moment, much to Fiddleford's dismay.

"Ford's been out later than usual. He could come back any minute..."

Just as he said that, they heard the front door open.

Oh, God.

They rushed to put something on, not bothering to check what they had grabbed. If Ford saw them like this, in their shared space, Lord knows they'd never hear the end of it.

"Wait, are you wearing my—"

Too late to change now!

A few lazy knocks came from the door before Ford went in. He didn't even look at them, he just dropped his bag on the floor and flopped face first onto his bed.

Stan sighed in relief. It was a good thing that Ford was so tir—

"Wait."

The couple tensed up, expecting to get berated for their "inappropriate behaviour." Instead, Ford just took his glasses off and put them on his side table before promptly passing back out.

That was close...

[lovemesomeagnst]

So for your Carmen Stan au how did Ford find out about Stan being brainwashed?

Okay so this ends up being different than in CS BECAUSE we have the added character of Alex, who’s their nephew so when the whole brainwashing and kidnapping thing happens Team Red would obviously be the first to know.

Ford and Fiddleford would realise something was amiss and are actually concerned for a while since Stan suddenly disappeared off grid and stopped appearing for his capers and all. At this stage I think they’ve both come to an agreement that Stan’s intentions were good (much like how Jules and Chase had believed in Carmen near the end) so the sudden inactivity from Stan was already alarming. Ford tries to rationalise to himself that Stan’s probably busy even though his gut screams at him that something is wrong.

It kinda sucks for him since he doesn’t have a proper way to contact Stan and they only ever see each other if Stan reaches out first or if they run into each other during one of his capers. Stan also hasn’t been checking in on Tate or Fiddleford like he liked to do sometimes so that was another thing. Hence the long silence brings Ford some anxiety. It wasn’t the first time he lost sight of Stan (happens all the time due to the secrecy but Ford at least has tabs based on report sightings of Stan from around the world) but it’s been like…ages and now that they were kinda on even/good terms Ford feels like something is wrong but he doesn’t know what.

When Stan finally resurfaces, Ford and Fiddleford are relieved only to be bewildered when Stan steals and doesn’t return the items to Fiddleford or like authorities. They find the behaviour suspicious but they could never get close enough to confront him, which was another red flag since Stan always interacts with them even on his missions (like a simple greeting or banter or teasing). So Stan avoiding them AND taking things but not returning them like his usual routine is very very weird.

Ford stresses over this change for a long time. He has no idea why his brother suddenly seems to change ways and change sides apparently. Stan not acknowledging him and actively avoiding him (cause Stan just thinks of Ford and Fidds as authorities after him now) hurts Ford because he has no idea why he’s being ignored either when they were on good terms already.

Ford eventually finds out from Alex. The poor boy had been stressed out of his mind in a dilemma on whether he should tell the rest of the family or just keep it to Team Red. Like I mentioned in a previous post here, he faces constant dilemmas regarding keeping Stan’s business away from the rest of the family, or to involve them as help. Eventually the whole brainwashing situation gets hopelessly bad and stressful and after discussion with Carla and the rest of Team Red, Alex believed his dad and uncle Ford deserves to know what’s actually going on.

Alex calls for a family meeting and Ford visits Shermie’s place and both brothers are shocked at what Alex reveals to them. This is also how Shermie finds out that Alex is Stan’s hacker and Ford is stunned that the entire time he comes over to rant about Stan, Alex had been part of it from the start. There’s a brief moment of Ford calling Alex out for being the reason Stan was able to escape his capture a couple times and it’s a bit hilarious. Shermie and Ford are obviously super caught off guard by the revelation that Alex was helping Stan the entire time and had somehow kept quiet over it for ages but then the seriousness of the situation finally settles in and both brothers are horrified.

Ford is absolutely grief stricken that his brother’s mind was brainwashed before he goes completely furious because how dare some evil organisation (that they’re just learning about now because Alex and Team Red decided it was time to tell the family everything) try to use his brother and mess with his mind. He immediately demands more information from Team Red so he can find a way to help.

When he gets back and meets with Fiddleford again he explains everything as Fiddleford is devastated. They both actually meet up with Team Red in this au cause Alex kinda has to let them (Shermie demanded him to do so) and also Ford wouldn’t take no for an answer, saying that Stan is his twin and he has rights to help in fixing the problem and saving his brother. Ford finding out about the situation definitely puts him on edge because his brother is hurt and not in his right mind and Ford wants to help but he has no idea where to start and he feels something akin to grief and fury creep up his throat.

They eventually learn how Stan got brainwashed (the use of the memory gun) and Ford actually gets mad at Fiddleford for a short while (mainly due to high tensions and emotions running on high from everything) and blames him for the creation of such a device before immediately regretting his words and apologising dw. Ford secretly fears that Stan’s mind can’t be restored back to normal but he buries it deep down and hyperfixates on helping Team Red find a solution to the problem, even bringing it up with ACME to get their resources and help.

He eventually helps in building the device to bring back Stan to his right state of mind but there’s definitely a lot of complicated emotions in the process. Mainly Ford having to grapple with losing his brother and desperately trying to fix him and bring him back cause ngl they’ve finally reached an understanding and he’d die before he let some stupid evil organisation rob him of a proper chance to actually sit down and talk with his brother (since they haven’t rlly actually had a long deep convo and mainly just run into each other for their missions).

[iluminated-goat]

Scratching and climbing the walls????? I'm smashing through the walls and leaving my cartoony silhouette behind. Mirror you can't just come in here and say all those things without squeezing my heart!!!! Thank you!! I hope you're doing well!!

AAAAAAA I'M SO HAPPY FOR YOUR INPUT!! AND FEEL FREE TO ASK/DO ANYTHING YOU WANT!! EXPOSE THOSE IDEAS!! FLOOD MY INBOX IF YOU MUST!! I definitely plan to sketch them out to flash them more!! And take your time making your surprise sketches my friend! I'm so excited for whatever you have planned!!

Ford is... definitely something in this AU. In the beginning, his conscious was split with Bill, but he was still himself. It was only after some years that he started becoming desensitized to his own humanity and adopting more eldritch behaviours, kind of becoming a mix of both beings and started using more of his influence and power – him practically "buying" Stan from his family being a big proof of that. Also you're absolutely right, man did all that just for his human "form" and it's achievements to be forgotten. Leaving only the "God of Knowledge".

I'm definitely exploring Caryn more!! Like, she's a woman in the medieval times/settings, poor woman never stood a chance. And even if she could, it's a literal god at her doorstep asking for her son, what would she even do?? Not to say, she thinks Stan is dead. She thinks her baby was literally sacrificed, all for some jewels and coins. They don't even know he's still alive.

I need to sketch Fiddleford definitely, but man's the definition of religious trauma and "brainwashing masked as indoctrination".

Ngl even I have a hard time imagining Ford's true form, just know that there's like- a shit ton of hands. Many hands and limbs coming from places that they shouldn't even be able to form. And yes! His wings are a reference to Bill's flames, and because of his demon statue, kind of like a banished angel. The reason why he's described like that is because I wanted to leave his interpretation confusing and vague - considering he's something Lovecraftian - and because that's Stan's POV, baby just stared at horrors he's unable to comprehend, poor boy.

Listen, doesn't matter which universe it is, Ford will always be weak for his brother. Not even the mockery of nature can escape his Lady's grip.

And mirror, my friend, I'm holding your hand when I say this... If you think Stan being sent off as a child bride is the worst thing that's going to happen to him...

You don't even have a storm coming, it's an EF5 tornado approaching you at a extremely worryingly speed.

And my friend I'm so sorry for my late answer, but I NEEDED to sketch the beautiful, stunning, eye-opening and magnificent drawing that you made of little Stan and his dress. I don't know if the shine in his eyes is just supposed to be light, but the first time I saw it I thought it was a tear (don't know if it's intentional). And his lost look?? With his dress??? And Ford's collar symbol like a brand??? HE'S A BABY YOU PORTRAYED HIM SO WELL!!! I CAN'T THANK YOU ENOUGH FOR THIS MY FRIEND!!

But on a serious note, take your absolute time on your pieces my friend. I will patiently and excitedly wait for anything you have planned. Again, I cannot thank you enough for your appreciation and support :) 🩵

I’d like to thank my friend @mirrorworldangel for inspiring me to finish this piece by their ficlet (go check out their posts NOW, they're awesome). I got inspired by Lady Tanith and Rykard from Elden Ring in this one (i fucking love them dude), and this is possibly the most dubious piece i’ve posted. So please, be careful and attentive of the tags please.

TW: child/sacrificial/arranged marriage, extremely big age gap (considering one of them’s a god and the other is a 12 y.o., so BE WARNED), religious themes, a bit of implied body horror/dehumanization too as a treat

Stanford who practically had his name ripped off the family after he moved and made a deal with an entity. Instead of making a deal with the god (which is essentially Bill or anyone else), man FUSED himself with it, becoming a mockery of nature and a twisted god of knowledge and greed (not in a “riches” way, more like an “i will do everything and anything to get what i want/reach my objectives” kind of greed). From the “blessings” he gave to the people of the town, they started seeing him as a higher being and worshipping him.

The years go by and no one talks about Stanford, his name being forgotten or unknown. After trimillennial years, Stanley is born. Things go the same for him, called stupid or seen as a disappointment (especially now, considering he’s an only child). So, being a kid without a stable support system and without friends, he mostly spends his time outside, going on pretend adventures with his friend/possum Shanklin and ignoring his feelings (this totally won’t have any consequences in the foreseeable future, none at all).

Stanford on the other side of the country felt a literal change on the force. While Stanley’s living his “best life”, man’s obsessing over the newfound feeling - so many years being glued to one place (even by his own will), he felt excited at the prospect of something new after god-knows how many years. He sends out some of his followers to see what was the cause of it, if he should be worried or not about this “change”, which is essentially how he finds out about Stanley.

Stanford’s morals were already… questionable. But after he fused with Bill???? Brother those things got even more twisted or are straight-out thrown out of the window depending on the situation. He’s curious about the brat - even more with the feelings that came. Just by the way his followers described him made him feel complete! As if some puzzle piece was missing all along, he thought it was fulfilled once he achieved godhood, but it was far better than it.

He wanted the boy.

He’s the God of Knowledge, a spiritual being that took physical form among mortals, with a group that would put their necks on the line for him. No mortal force could deny him anything.

When Filbrick and Caryn are visited by the cultists, Filbrick is exhilarated at the thought of one of the Old Gods blessing them with riches, so much he’s almost shoving Stan out the door instantly. Caryn, on the other hand, was inconsolable. The mere image of her baby being sacrificed to a mockery of nature made her want to cry. Stan doesn’t really understand, his mother isn’t looking at him and his father is just telling him not to mess anything up.

On the day of his “bringing”, his mother is helping him with his clothes. She looks thin, face sunken and eyes aimless as she fixes the red veil on his head. He’s wearing things that are more expensive than all the things in his house combined. An intricate golden border weaved on the red material, so big that it fell on his shoulders. A simple white and red gown with patterns embroidered on its short-puffed sleeves, rings and golden bracelets sitting heavy on his skinny arms. He smirks when he sees his reflection on the old vanity, he looks like a noble. He looks rich.

He asks his mom if his friend will like him. Caryn wants to cry.

Stan can’t help but feel giddy at all the attention he’s receiving. These people don’t even know him but they’re praising him, saying how amazing he is, how he’ll soon be loved by all, that his name will be known across the lands to the seas and to the skies. He feels sad his parents stayed behind for the ceremony, but they tell him that they’ll join after it. They eagerly push him towards the temple, leading him to the altar as he watches people cheer, laugh and celebrate his mere existence.

And there, he meets his “friend”.

His smile falls, a shiver runs down his spine. The people guiding him are oblivious to his turmoil, happily pushing him closer to the… creature. It might have a humanoid figure and be completely covered in multiple robes, but he’s not dumb enough to not recognize danger. What gets his attention is the six fingered hand slipping out one of the sleeves, taking his (tiny in comparison to the gigantic limb) hand in his. He was almost surprised at the gentleness of the action. It slips a ring on his fingers, saying something about eternal loyalty, branding him its “Lady”.

The entire church erupts in joyful screams at his hesitant nod.

It’s… actually really boring after the ceremony. They change his clothes to another gown and paint something in his forehead, guiding him to a more fancy building. They practically maneuver him to sit on the plushy chair, excitedly telling him about his position as the Proprietor and Consort. He’s like a psychic! 

The first week was awesome, seeing so many people walk the entire guest hallway just to talk with him and receive his visions and sermons made him feel so cool (if he could he would shove it on Crampelter’s face)! He could just say some nonsense and they’d eat it straight from his hands! And then the second week came, and the third, and he was so so bored. The only thing he did was sit there and say random bullshit. And the big guy of the cult didn’t even look for him once, and where are his cool powers??? 

Tired of the repetitive routine and being ignored, he leaves the manor and goes to the temple. He doesn’t give a shit if he’s interrupting the ninetieth sermon of the day or whatever, he pulls the guy’s robes and demands his attention. Yeah, the giant six handprint on the veil covering its face creeps him out, but the part of him who’s pissed yells louder. He’s smug at the astonished silence that comes from it (until it grabbed him like a kitten and raised him from the ground).

Their only ever real interaction happened some time after that.

 “Stanley was certain his friend was an ass.

The thing barely spoke to him - and he’s been there for weeks -, for some reason it’s obsessed with watching him from the shadows of his manor (he stopped giving attention to it once he realized it wouldn’t answer him), and depending on the angle you were looking at it, it seemed to have more limbs than normal moving under its robes. And after his little “interruption”, it seemed to take fun in tormenting him, using his fear of heights to suddenly lift him from the ground and carry him around the town. Seriously, what’s its deal?

So, with the will and the authority of a High Consort (whatever that means) and Proprietor of the Manor, he decided to look for answers!

He decided the best place to look was straight from the source of it all, the Temple. He decided to enter it - more like break in - after the evening, where the last praying hour would happen and it would be closed for the rest of the day. The people didn’t want to anger their “Lord” after this time.

Stan blew a raspberry, almost tripping on the flounce of his gown. Bunch of bull, his honest opinion.

Besides! This was the coolest hour! With no one around, the place looked like one of the scenes from the books with illustrations he stole once! He didn’t even see the Inquisitor wandering around.  The guy creeped him out (something something Fiddlesticks? Fliplick? Bleh, something like that), with that iron mask and that scythe, murmuring under his breath on his best days. Yeah, he preferred he kept his loyalty to his so-called Lord or whatever.

One thing he quickly came to realize was how unnecessarily long the hallways were. Not even his manor was that exaggerated. Multiple antique and fading paintings hung on the walls, ripped curtains and dusty shelves, surprisingly well-taken wooden and marble statues - some missing some limbs from the passage of time. He didn’t open a single door, in fear that it would suddenly appear and blow his cover.

His head snapped at the end of the corridor, the sound of sloshing and splashing coming from behind one of the doors. He covered his mouth, muffling his giggles. Jogging towards the door, he realized there was a bit of light coming from the slightly opened crack. Stan’s luck couldn’t have been better!

Slowly propping his hands on the wood, he smirked as pressed his face closer to the crack, excited at what he would discover. Maybe, he could even gossip about it to the others once they check his manor!

He regretted it almost immediately.

An eye stared back at him, but he’s pretty sure that wasn’t its face. Ripped muscles and hands sprouting from the wrong places, bones protruding the skin as if they were healed wrong or didn’t know where to go to make it fit, human legs hanging limply from the animalistic torso, organs he couldn’t even name falling and making a wet sound whenever it hit the skin, limbs pulsing and jerking as if they had lives of their own. He’s pretty sure he saw what looked like wings, randomly placed and varying in size.

Stan wanted to throw up. He needed to leave. Now.

Stan tried to push himself away, to get away and go back to his manor, to leave this town. In his haste, his foot got trapped on the length of his dress. His heart hammered as he fell face first on the floor, body slamming and rolling the door’s bottom stairs.

He moaned in pain, softly rubbing his forehead. That hurt. Who puts stairs behind a door?!

He froze as a shadow fell upon him, covering the entirety of the floor. He didn’t want to turn around. He really didn’t want to turn around. Well, he didn’t even turn, it decided to pluck him right out of the floor, holding him tightly in its hold. His body shook violently, as he was brought face-to-face to it - the worms roaming around its face falling on the floor with a firm “thud”.

Stan wanted to throw up.

It stared at him expectantly, he could see some simmering anger and curiosity in its eye (or what he thought was an eye), its body now hastily covered with its robes. Shit. Shit. What does he do?! What does he say?! Technically, it is his fault for breaking into its temple. And now he messed up by seeing it in its private quarters. Appeal to it? How?? Pray to him? He doesn’t know what to say! Make an excuse? It's the head of the town, it knows everything! 

“I- I-” Stan stammered as a hand came closer to him. “I- Umm- I really like- your wings!”

The hand stopped. Stan cheered internally.

“Y-Yeah! Your wings! They’re- they’re pretty cool!” Stan yelled. “I like their colors! Ummmm… blue looks good on you!”

It stared in silence. Until, tentatively, it brought him closer to its robes, a wing spreading out from underneath it. Crooked, some parts missing feathers and exposing raw skin. One thing he didn’t lie about was the colors. They… they actually looked kind of cool.

He was lightly shaken from the hand holding him, the creature now adjusting its hold so he could have his arms free. He looked at his hands, then at the wing who was now on arm's length.

Did- did it want him to pet it?

Hesitantly, Stan ran his fingers through the feathers. It was… soft. Really soft, nice to the touch too. He took care to not prod the exposed skin. He heard some chirps coming from behind him, becoming broader with his petting.

That- actually wasn’t so bad.”

Apparently, that’s all it took for the guy to get his head out of his ass. You know, simple things like actually talking to him, learning his name (the dude’s a behemoth and his name is Stanford), going on dinner dates, casually committing heresy, attempting to drag him out of the temple whenever the preaching goes on for too long. 

Stanley skittishly gets closer to the man, giving him (shy) backhanded compliments and giving him some of his sketches. Stanford seems fond of carrying him around in his many hands, letting him nap in his hold whenever he got tired of the manor - which moved to Stan spending most of his time sitting on Stanford’s shoulders. It’s months after when he’s putting more effort in his drawings and sermons, wearing the clothing gifts Stanford made for him; Stan moving into the temple and sharing a bed with the god, one of his hands covering his entire body that he realizes “omg i’m a follower just like these losers”.

[thehandwitch]

this is so niche. so fucking niche. but. gravity falls be more chill au.

ford gets a squip because he’s desperate for academic recognition and acceptance among his peers. (his squip, of course, is bill.)

this is either set at backupsmore, where fiddleford gets increasingly concerned about ford’s strange behaviour and ends up using his super-awesome engineering skills to take down the army of squips, or …

this is set in high school, where stan knows something is wrong the minute ford starts pushing him away, and when he learns about the squips, he’s really, really tempted — it would be so easy to take it, to be accepted, to be the perfect son and never fuck up again — but stan is nothing if not loyal, and so he saves ford and destroys both their chances at being ‘normal’ in the process.

(i think i like the second, angst-wise — because it would be absolutely heartbreaking to blur the line between bill convincing ford to distance himself from stan & ford actually wanting to distance himself from stan — but also you can never go wrong with having fidds around, so…)

[proseandsongs]

I Can’t Be Without You

Wishing the happiest of birthdays to the lovely, kind, talented @emberglows! I am so privileged to be your friend, and as a sign of thanks/celebration of your birthday, I’ve written a Fiddlestan fic! I really hope you enjoy it. Happy birthday, love!! <3

“This is stupid.” Stan plucked at the bright red bowtie around his neck and grimaced at his reflection.

His niece swooped in and slapped his hands away. “Don’t touch it! You’ll ruin it.”

Stanley sighed and tugged at his suit jacket to banish the wrinkles. The suit was brand new and snug in the shoulders, but Mabel had refused to let him wear his Mystery Shack suit because it smelled like mothballs and formaldehyde. Stan had suspicions that Fiddleford was immune to the scent due to his work with Stanford, but he didn’t argue. He only put his foot down when Mabel suggested glitter hairspray to keep his hair in place. His hair was hard as a helmet with all the gel; it wasn’t going anywhere.

“Pumpkin, I don’t know about this. This seems a bit too…fancy. I’m just going out with Fiddleford.”

“Yeah, for your anniversary!” Mabel brushed back a stray hair from her Grunkle’s forehead and beamed at him in the mirror. After a few summers of growth spurts, Mabel now stood at her Grunkle’s shoulder, which meant she could now pick at him whenever she wanted. However, the careful adjustments – straightening a crooked tie, swiping at a smudge on his glasses with her sleeve, flattening a cowlick – were appreciated.

Mabel giggled in excitement and added, “I can’t believe you’ve been dating for a whole year!”

Stan swallowed hard as he grimaced at his reflection. “Me either.”

The whole thing was a bit strange. He had never predicted – never could have predicted – how the summer after their journey on the Stan o’ War would go.

After spending nearly a year alone in his mansion, with weekly visits from his son, Tate, Fiddleford had grown lonely. Despite his regular correspondence with Stanford as he travelled the world, Fiddleford sought company. Which is why, when Stanley and Stanford returned to Gravity Falls for summer vacation, Fiddleford proposed that they move into his mansion. There was far more space than at the Mystery Shack where Soos and now Melody lived, and Fiddleford practically shoved his Southern hospitality down their throats. They couldn’t say no.  

It was Fiddleford’s odd colloquialisms and erratic behaviour that made Stan fret about staying in the mansion. Once they moved in, he was surprised to see Stanford was just as happy working with Fiddleford in his lab as they had been on the ocean. Even more surprising: Stanley was enjoying himself, too. It wasn’t because of the Olympic swimming pool in the backyard (although that didn’t hurt) or the silverware he had pawned shortly after moving in: it was because Fiddleford was so kind. The man who had suffered homelessness, abandonment, and poverty for thirty years couldn’t stop giving. He donated to the children’s program at the library, the senior’s residence, and drew up blueprints for a year-round homeless shelter that was now under construction.

In addition to Fiddleford’s generosity and success as an engineer, Stanley had been startled by his great sense of humour. The first time he heard Fiddleford sass Stanford, he laughed himself into stitches. That had been the first time Fiddleford’s grin had brought heat into his face, although he was quick to blame this on the laughter.

Stanley got to know Fiddleford, to the point where they could have long conversations without the intervention of Stanford. He was sleeping more now, and would often doze while Stanley and Fiddleford spoke; no doubt catching up on thirty years of sleep deprivation. The more Stanley spoke to Fiddleford, the more smitten he became, to the point that even Dipper and Mabel could tell there was something suspicious going on. Stanley dodged the questions, but he couldn’t avoid the unfamiliar pull Fiddleford had on him.

Soon the evening soaks in the pool with just the two of them – Stanford claimed it was unsanitary – turned into long conversations that stretched until the moon was at its highest. Those chats turned into heart-pounding flirting sessions, where Stanley didn’t know up from down and couldn’t determine whether Fiddleford was reciprocating, or merely being polite.

He got the hint one evening near the end of the summer when, in response to a blatant come-on, Fiddleford shot him with an exasperated look and blurted, “Stanley Pines, if you don’t steel your gut and kiss me silly, I don’t know what I’m going to do with you!”

He obliged, of course, and proceeded to kiss Fiddleford silly – that is until Stanford burst onto the scene with a ceptopod latched onto his ear.

Stanley had been mortified, but all Stanford said was, “It’s about time,” before he started gushing about his newest finding.

How far they had come from that uncertain night, both embarrassing and sweet; now he stood in front of a mirror, dressed to the nines by his niece and set to take his partner for a great dinner for their anniversary. Anniversary. He had never expected anyone to stick around that long.

Stan smiled at his reflection and admired Mabel’s styling. “Nice work, kid.”

He ruffled her hair and grinned at her little squawk of surprise. With a laugh, Stan pulled open his dresser drawer and scooped up a small black box. It fit in his suit coat pocket without leaving a suspicious lump. Good; it was better if he didn’t see it coming.

“I’ve gotta get going. You know how Fidds gets about being late.”

“The only people excused from punctuality are the dead, Stanley,” Mabel recited in an on-point imitation of Fiddleford.

“Yeah yeah, you little gremlin,” Stan said as he ruffled her hair again.

Much like his niece, nephew, and brother, Fiddleford was strange.

Stanley had always had a soft spot for strange.

If the waiter didn’t interrupt him soon to take their order, Stan was positive he was going to drown himself with all the water he was drinking. The truth was he was so nervous he could hardly form a sentence, and sweating buckets to boot.

Fiddleford must have noticed, because he paused in the middle of his story about the director’s meeting he had earlier that day to ask, “Are you alright, Stanley?”

His brow was furrowed behind his spectacles, and the genuine concern made Stanley’s mouth go dry. He guzzled the last of his glass of water and set it down with gusto.

“Yeah, of course!”

He hoped that Fiddleford hadn’t heard the crack in his voice. He adjusted his suit coat to hide the steadily growing sweat stains with a bit of embarrassment.

When Stanley looked up at Fiddleford, he was torn between admiration and a deep feeling of inadequacy. Fiddleford was fresh and crisp in a simple grey suit and purple tie. The small white rose that decorated the lapel of his jacket matched his newly trimmed beard, fluffy and bright.

Next to his handsome partner, Stan felt like an absolute mess.

Stan must have stared too long, because Fiddleford frowned at him again and looked like he was about to question him again. Eager for a distraction, Stanley craned his neck and said gruffly, “Where’s that waiter? I’m getting ready to eat my hand.”

At Stan’s complaint, a few disapproving looks turned their way. However, Fiddleford was mild when he replied, “I’m sure he’ll be by soon. In the meantime…”

When Fiddleford unexpectedly reached across the table to hold Stanley’s hand, he jumped a bit. Stan met his partner’s eyes and was relieved to see they were soft, like his smile. It was enough to make him relax under Fiddleford’s touch.

“Stanley, tonight is very important to me, and I’m so glad I get to spend it together,” Fiddleford began. “And I – I just wanted to say thank you.”

Stan was surprised. “Eh? What for?”

Fiddleford gave Stanley’s hand a reassuring squeeze. “I want to thank you for being so understanding these last few months. I know I’ve been off negotiating with a bunch of stiff coats almost every day this month about patenting and selling my inventions, but you’ve been so good about our time apart. It’s been difficult navigating all the corporate mazes, but being able to talk to you at the end of the day makes it all worthwhile.”

Stanley sniffled and blinked a couple times to rid his eyes of the sting. He chuckled to hide the fact that his throat was tight with emotion and caressed the inside of Fiddleford’s thumb with his own. “You’re one of the best parts of my day, too. I…I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“You don’t have to worry about that,” Fiddleford insisted with a smile. “I’m not going anywhere.”

The words struck Stanley to the core, and he felt a surge of courage. His hand fell to the box in his pocket.  

“I’m glad you said that,” Stanley said, his voice stilted as he pulled his hand away. On shaking legs, Stanley stood and took a step around the table, much to Fiddleford’s bemusement. As he dipped his hand into his pocket, Stanley added, “It’ll make it a whole lot easier to do this.”

While Stan lowered himself slowly to one knee, he pulled the box out of his pocket and was met with a gasp. Fiddleford had clapped a hand over his mouth and was staring at him, wide-eyed with shock. The adrenaline of the moment pushed Stanley to speak in a rush.

“Will you marry me?”

He popped open the box to reveal the simple gold band filigreed with patterns that resembled the circuit boards that Fiddleford often worked on when he needed to get over a mental block.

Fiddleford blinked once, twice, and then whispered, “Stanley–”

“Look, I know it’s a bit sudden, after only a year,” Stan blurted; he was flushing like a fiend. “But a couple of old farts like us don’t have time to waste. I want to make an honest man of you, and it wouldn’t feel right if I didn’t do it properly. You never know how much time you have with someone; I wish I had learned that sooner, but it’s not too late for us. If I didn’t ask you this, I don’t know how I could live with myself.”

Stan blinked back a few tears and cleared his throat. “I can’t imagine being without you, and I don’t want to be, ever. I’m here with you until the end, if you’ll have me.”

He held his breath as he waited for Fiddleford’s response. Teary eyed, his partner let out a breathless “Yes, Stanley,” and proceeded to shower kisses all over his forehead and cheeks. With a grin, Stan slid the ring onto Fiddleford’s finger and caught him with a quick kiss on the lips. Applause rose from the other restaurant goers and wait staff as they broke apart, and Stanley whipped around with a half-hearted scowl.

“Nosy jerks. How’s a guy supposed to propose with a bunch of snoops?” he muttered with a glare at the rowdy bunch of college-age students pounding the table and chanting “Kiss! Kiss!”

“Stanley,” Fiddleford brought him back with a soft word and a dopey smile, “this is a lovely moment, please don’t ruin it.”

“All I’m saying is that they could at least pretend not to look–”

“Stanley.”

He sighed. “Alright, alright. It doesn’t matter, anyway. All that matters is you said yes.”

Fiddleford smiled again. “That I did.”

When their lips met again to a chorus of cheers, Stanley didn’t care about the noise. He only had eyes for his fiancé and hope for the life they would build together.

[oojamaflip-whatchamacallit]

#IM RIGHT THERE W YOU!!#Fiddleford absolutely will NOT have that behaviour#so after a while Ford begrudgingly starts treating him like#you know#a human#and then he gets real attached to his (literal) baby brother#STANLEY WITH BABY FORD ON THE OTHER HAND#RAHHH!!!!!

Imma drop kick Ford for treating Lil Stanley like that. Keep it away??? Excuse me sir let me just smack you! How dare you treat that little boy like that. As if Stan doesn’t have enough self esteem issues as it is! You better hug him NOW 😭

Meanwhile Adult!Stanley is like “I will protect him with every last breath I have!” And hugging him so tight 🥹😫

I just needed you to know that Ford does come around… eventually.